


At Your Leisure

by artemancy



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Canon Bisexual Character, Cis Martin Blackwood, Communication, Georgie's only there for a hot second, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, past dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28855137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemancy/pseuds/artemancy
Summary: Martin seeks out permission to sexualize Jon in his fantasies and Jon takes it to mean that he'd like to watch Jon while he gets off. They talk about it and try it while adjusting on the fly when Jon surprises them both by taking an interest in the proceedings.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 8
Kudos: 136





	At Your Leisure

**Author's Note:**

> Jon's feelings about his body are largely tied to my own feelings about mine, though I'm agender. Apologies if anything seems out of sorts. Words for Jon's chest are tits and breasts. Jon's genitals are just called cock or dick.
> 
> See end notes for general summary and explanation for past dubious consent.
> 
> My tumblr is https://artemancy.tumblr.com/ !

“Can I masturbate to you?”

The question popped out before Martin could stop it, though he _immediately_ regretted it. He’d been seeing Jon for a few months now and things were finally comfortable enough that, more often that not, the two of them stayed the night together. Usually in Jon’s apartment, since his bed was bigger.

Last night was one such night, leaving Martin and Jon to awaken together on this comfortable Saturday morning. Martin was still lazing in bed as Jon dressed for the day, secure enough to go through the motions in front of him.

Although that might change, given Martin’s brain-mouth barrier completely failed him.

Jon froze, jumper half over his head, back still to Martin.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing,” Martin replied immediately.

Jon finished pulling the jumper on properly before turning to fix Martin with one of his critical stares. “No, please repeat it. I just don’t know if I caught it properly.”

“Sorry,” he said weakly. Jon crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside him. Martin reached out to fix the tag on his shirt on pure domestic instinct and Jon caught his hand before it could retreat, hold it firmly in his.

“Don’t be” Jon waved the apology off almost impatiently. “Since you won’t repeat it, I’ll just assume what I heard was correct. If so, then, well, I’m not saying _no_ to it exactly, but I would like a little more information. I’m trying to understand what exactly you want from me.”

“You- hold on,” Martin said and sat up, the blankets falling away to expose his bare chest to the cooler air of the flat. It was still early, but Jon tended to rise with the sun and Martin tended to rise with Jon. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything! I know that you’re, um, asexual. I’ve seen your ring-” Jon glanced at said ring where it resided on the hand currently reached out to hold Martin’s own. “And your tattoo-” Obscured by the sweater (one of Martin’s sweaters?), his one and only tattoo sat over his heart, a set of crossed flags for both asexual and bisexual pride. “-And I, I respect that!”

“Asexuality aside, this still bears talking about,” Jon said gently.

“W-Well, I’m allo and… Sorry. I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Jon sighed, a smile slowly starting to curl the edges of his mouth. He traced patterns on the back of the had he still gripped. “You don’t have to apologize for thinking… like that about me. What was it you said? You wanted to masturbate to me?”

“Oh my god.”

“Stop that,” he chided when Martin threw an arm over his hot face and flapped his hand at Jon as if to wave him away. “We’re rational, consenting adults. We should be able to talk about this. Er, maybe it’s even overdue, if it’s been getting to you.”

“It hasn’t,” Martin rushed to assure him. “Sometimes I just… get thoughts. About you.”

“Well,” Jon considered, looking away at the wall as he thought. “I’m not sex repulsed. I would probably say I’m sex neutral?”

“You- What?”

“Just because of my sexuality or lack thereof doesn’t mean I can’t consent to sex,” he reminded him. “I don’t exactly have a ton of practical experience, but I think it can be fun.”

“You think it can be fun.”

“Well, yes.”

“What about it exactly do you think is fun?” Martin wanted to understand.

Jon was quiet for a moment in thought before answering. “I like being with my partner, platonically or sexually. I like the thought that you want me, even if I don’t understand it. So I would like to try it. With you.”

“Okay,” Martin said, watching Jon’s face as his heart overflowed with love for this ridiculous man he was finally allowed to call his own.

“But, ah,” Jon spoke up sheepishly. “Not right now? I bought that sausage yesterday so I could make us a nice breakfast before I go to Georgie’s.”

“Well, I suppose that’s okay,” Martin said in mock disappointment. “But only if you give me a kiss.”

Jon sighed dramatically, but ducked in for a quick kiss that turned into a very soft exchange that, ultimately, kept Jon in bed for another ten minutes anyway.

* * *

Martin was a man with a healthy sexual appetite; he told himself that and did his best to believe it. The difference between an allo and an asexual partner was great, but with some communication and respect (and mutually agreed upon love languages) it was almost easy to make things work.

He and Jon slept together most nights and Martin usually took care of, er, personal business in the shower. He had a few favorite mental fantasies and though he tried not to think of Jon sexually, thoughts of Jon were too hard to resist. When he had his dick in his hand, rational thought took a back seat and thoughts of shame or guilt were left to post orgasm Martin.

So when Martin asked, he really just wanted confirmation that those thoughts were okay. When he stupidly asked if he could masturbate to Jon, he meant the Jon in his mind that purred sinful things into his ear or gave him a “helping” hand. But Jon actually seemed to be looking forward to being an active participant, even if it meant simply being there for Martin to look at.

The thought of it was driving Martin to distraction and for the rest of the day his mind would flash back to a mental picture of Jon spread out before him in the nude. He’d be smiling because Martin adored it when he smiled. They would be in Jon’s bed so they had room to work with. He’d be able to feast on the sight without a hint of self consciousness. It seemed too good to be true.

* * *

The thought of being an active participant also seemed to be wearing on Jon. He made breakfast for his lovely boyfriend before dashing off to Georgie’s, where he played the long-suffering proof listener to her next episode. It was cheesy, but good as all her other episodes had been.

“Do you and Melanie have sex?” he blurted out after Georgie was satisfied with his feedback. For a moment, the question hung between them before she spun around in her desk chair and fixed him with a _Look_. “Martin asked if he could masturbate to me and I said yes.”

“And… you’re regretting it?” she asked. “Jon this is pretty TMI.”

“I don’t have anyone else to talk to about it,” he said. “You’ve been around since we first started dating and you know me best. I told him that it was okay, but we couldn’t do anything since I was due over here.”

“Sorry to drag you away from a booty call,” she said unsympathetically. “He wants you to actually be there when he grinds one out?”

Jon’s nose crinkled in distaste. “Er… yes? He specifically asked if he could masturbate to me. Why would he ask if he didn’t want my involvement?”

“Probably because you’re ace and he’s a gentleman,” she shrugged and turned back to her computer. “Maybe text him to clear it up? If it’s bothering you.”

“It’s not,” he insisted, though he pulled out his phone anyway. “I like the idea of it.”

“You might not like it so much in person,” she muttered. It was a pointed comment and he understood it as such. It wasn’t a dig at him, he knew that, but a reminder that she’d also run headfirst into his boundaries before.

Jon didn’t dignify that with a response.

* * *

J.Sims: Hello, love.  
M.K. Blackwood: <3 hello <3  
J. Sims: I’ve been thinking about this morning all day.  
M.K. Blackwood: Me too. What have you been thinking about?  
J. Sims: When you asked me that did you intend on propositioning me? I assumed you wanted to have me present, but I realized that you might have just meant thinking about me?  
M.K. Blackwood: Ok I really just meant thinking of you  
J. Sims: Are you opposed to me being there?  
M.K. Blackwood: Ofc not! But I really don’t want you to do it if you don’t feel comfortable with it. It would be nice but your wellbeing is my priority.  
J. Sims: I can’t say for absolute sure I would enjoy it, but as I said before I’m willing to try.  
M.K. Blackwood: If you feel uncomfortable at any time please leave I don’t want you trying to endure anything for me  
J. Sims: I will keep that in mind and I appreciate your dedication to my well being.  
J. Sims: You’re staying at my place tonight, correct?  
M.K. Blackwood: Yeah I’m actually at your place right now. Did you want me to go? Do you need some space to think?  
J. Sims: I love you and I think you’re reading into what I said in a negative way. I don’t want you to leave. I was just checking in because I thought we might give that a try tonight.  
M.K. Blackwood: OH  
M.K. Blackwood: Ok ok ok yeah I’ll be here  
J. Sims: Thinking of me?  
M.K. Blackwood: You’re an evil man, Jonathan Sims.  
J. Sims: <3  
M.K. Blackwood: <3

* * *

Dinner that night was a charged affair even though it was simple takeaway. When they retired to bed, they crawled in together for a quick kiss and cuddle while they talked about how the night would go.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Martin reminded him, speaking against Jon’s temple where he’d been pressing kisses.

“I know,” Jon assured him. “But I trust you.” Well, that deserved nothing but the sweetest kiss Martin could manage. When they broke apart. Jon continued. “What do you think of when you think of me?”

“Anything,” Martin answered honestly. He caught Jon’s lips again and reveled in the slow, unhurried press. Jon refused to use tongue – compared the sensation to _leeches_ in fact – but he was a fan of with making out in general, even when Martin liked to suck possessive hickeys into his neck.

“That gives me nothing,” Jon complained when they broke apart. They were still close enough to breathe each other’s air and even such a slight distance seemed to far when Martin’s blood was beginning to burn with want. “Where would you like to start?”

Martin dragged his hands up and down Jon’s sides as he thought because he knew as close as he wanted to be, Jon likely wanted to be twice as close.

“How do you feel about nudity?” he proposed and Jon shrugged.

“It should be fine. I’m not feeling particularly dysphoric,” he explained. “Er, or did you mean yours?”

“Both?”

“Both sound fine,” Jon assured him, but neither of them made to move apart long enough to undress at first. It took another few minutes of kissing before Martin broke off with a chuckle and urged Jon back.

There was no point to trying to undress one another, at least not this time. Neither of them were particularly eager to try a strip tease, so they were quick to undress. Martin noted with a certain pride that Jon hadn’t tried to wear a binder to bed and then immediately averted his eyes respectfully as he shucked off his pants and kicked them away. They didn’t bother trying to collect their clothing, just pushed it off the bed for now.

Jon was back under the covers first. Martin let him be for a moment and chose to sit above the sheets, angled so his cock was out of Jon’s sight though it had already started to react to the situation.

“I know I’m not exactly a standard of male beauty,” Jon muttered, clutching the sheets a bit closer. “I understand if you decide that reality falls far short of fantasy and you’d like to end the experiment here.”

“Okay, first of all,” Martin started. “ _Don’t_ talk about my boyfriend like that. If we’re talking about standards of _male beauty_ , I have to say you can back out too because I certainly don’t fit the bill.”

“Yes, but,” Jon sighed. “You’ve said I’m the first transman you’ve ever been with.”

“Yes… But you- Ugh, silly man,” he sighed fondly and reached out to rub his hand up Jon’s bare shoulder to cup his face. Jon finally looked up at him and lifted the covers, letting Martin slip under and guide him to his chest for a quick cuddle. “I don’t know how to say this right or sensitively, but I’m just going to say it. I’m attracted to you. _Everything_ about you is attractive to me, down to that ridiculous voice of yours.”

“It’s my real voice,” Jon insisted long-sufferingly.

“I know, love.”

“You and Georgie both, I swear.”

“I know.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know that, too.”

The two of them shared a smile and the tension in the room wasn’t exactly, broken, but they were both feeling significantly more in tune. They were both exploring this together.

“So…” Jon breathed, eyes flickering to Martin’s lips and back. “What now?”

“I guess that depends on what you’re comfortable with,” he hedged, torn between taking charge of the situation as the one with more experience and not wanting to push Jon too far. He wasn’t joking when he said Jon’s well being was his highest priority.

“In the past, I haven’t been able to pin down my boundaries,” Jon admitted. “In theory, everything sounds fine even if I’m not, er, particularly turned on. It’s in practice that things get messy.”

“In practice, sex is messy,” he said honestly. His hands trailed up and down Jon’s bare back, warming it and staying resolutely away from his chest.

“Maybe… you should start by touching yourself?” Jon whispered against Martin’s skin where he was curled up under his chin.

“Okay.” Martin’s voice was embarrassingly high. He cleared his throat and pulled back a bit to look Jon in the eyes and found that he was a similar blushing mess, regardless of how smooth his voice was. He wanted clarification. “You’re okay with me looking at you? Like, anywhere, or is there someplace you’d rather not be, uh, looked at?”

“My dysphoria is unpredictable,” Jon said as if Martin was unaware of his flair ups. He squirmed a bit further out of Martin’s embrace as if feeling out the way his skin fit. Eventually, he said, “But I don’t think it should be a problem for me tonight.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Neither of them made any further movements.

“Would it help if I talked to you?” Jon asked.

“Like dirty talk?” His voice sounded hopeful. He could hear it even as he said it and it made him cringe in embarrassment. Before he could backtrack, Jon nodded considerately.

“I think the view would be better on top of me,” Jon whispered, evidently taking the reins himself. Martin was happy enough to give them up for the night.

They shifted, pulling the sheets down to bare them both. Jon arranged Martin in a kneel over him, knees on either side of Jon’s hips, just over his own sex. Martin was hard, but not fully erect just yet. He was a slow starter, nerves over his body image usually getting to him, but with the veritable visual feast before him, knew he’d get there soon.

Looking down at Jon made him almost dizzy with how much he wanted this ridiculous man and Jon’s own stare was bright and hungry in return. Maybe he was more into watching than he’d thought. Martin didn’t think he was much to look at, but clearly his boyfriend had differing opinions.

They were quiet while they simply looked each other over for a few long moments. Martin didn’t know what Jon was seeing, but hoped he liked it in more than a catalog-all-new-things way. For himself, he tried to let his gaze roam evenly and not linger too much on Jon’s chest, but it kept drawing his eyes.

In the privacy of his own mind, he could imagine himself being given permission to touch and leaning down to bite at his pretty, dusky nipples. They were practically begging for it, hardened in the cool air as they were.

“Did you want me to touch you?” Martin double checked, making sure to keep his traitorous voice steady this time. Jon considered it, but shook his head. “Okay, cool.”

“It’s a possibility I’m open to, but I’d like to just watch for now. If that changes, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds good,” Martin agreed as if his cock wasn’t throbbing and beginning to jut up. He cleared his throat again when arousal threatened to choke him. “Should I… uh, start?”

“At your leisure,” Jon said in his ridiculously low, purring voice that gave Martin _dreams_. He settled back into the pillows under his shoulders, propped up enough to get a good look at the goings on above him. He may not be attracted to Martin in the traditional sense, but the sight of his boyfriend kneeling over him, flushed to his chest and biting his lips? It was a heady power trip.

Martin finally reached up to take his prick in hand and could have sobbed at how good it felt to relieve some of the pressure coiling in his gut. Then stopped and forced himself to ask, “Okay, last time I swear. This is okay with you?”

“Extremely.” Jon looked up at him with an almost haughty raised brow. “I _can_ consent, Martin.”

“I know! I know, but you get uncomfortable when people talk about your body or say sexual things. I remember what happened when Tim tried to compliment your arse!”

Jon sighed, dropping his head into the pillows and closing his eyes. He collected himself for a moment before looking Martin in the eye.

“I have an issue with being reminded that other people view me sexually,” Jon admitted. “But that doesn’t apply to _you_. You’re my boyfriend and I’ve consented to being viewed as a sexual object after being asked very nicely.”

“I don’t see you as an object,” Martin rushed to say, horrified by the thought. “Jon!”

“Okay, fine, as a sexual _person_ ,” he griped, hands coming up to grip Martin’s outer thighs. “That said, I’d rather like to see the show I was promised. So either resume or come down here and kiss me.”

“So demanding.” Martin had no complaints to the command, though, so he braced the hand not currently holding himself on the bed beside Jon’s head so he could lean down to kiss away Jon’s look of smug satisfaction. Their press of lips was slow, unhurried, and through it, Martin began to slowly stroke himself. At his first low moan, Jon broke the kiss to stare into his face in fascination. Martin would have commented if Jon didn’t beat him there.

“I like that sound.” With that, he nosed his way under Martin’s chin to place a kiss gently on his throat. Martin swallowed heavily before placing his own kiss on the crown of his lover’s head, breathing in the spicy scent of whatever hair oil Jon was trying out that month. As weird as it might have sounded, the smell of Jon sent another wave of heat through him.

He leaned back before he could lose his balance and do something as ridiculous as crush his boyfriend. He started to twist his hand slightly, stimulating the head of his cock and making him pant breathily. Now that he’d triple checked, he let his eyes run rampant over Jon’s body, from the tantalizing column of Jon’s neck (that he _would_ be ruining later in the night, mark his words) to Jon’s chest.

Martin wasn’t lying when he said he’d never been with a transman. He really had no idea what to do with breasts and Jon’s chest was actually larger than he thought. Which shouldn’t have come as a surprise, as Jon really only dressed and undressed with his back to Martin and gravity seemed to be working to make them appear larger than they were.

The only breasts he’d seen in his life were his mothers when he’d had to help her with the bath. _Decidedly_ unsexy. But Jon’s? By virtue of being attached to the man he loved, they were fascinating, The way he could track Jon’s breathing by the rise and fall in such a noticeable way made him want to bury his head between them and stay there to listen to his heart.

He also wanted to run his cock between them, but that was his hind brain thinking. He wanted to push the thought away, but the realization that he could watch Jon’s chest shake if he touched him tore through him and he had to muffle the long moan that built in his chest.

Jon seemed to catch onto his train of thought and the grin he flashed up at Martin bordered on obscene, though his tone was sweet. “Do you like my chest, Martin?” All Martin could do was moan and helplessly nod as his grip tightened on his cock. “Personally, I don’t get the attraction. I figured you wouldn’t either, but…”

“I l-love your chest,” Martin affirmed thickly. “I love everything about you.”

Jon groaned, head dropping back again. “You shouldn’t be nearly so romantic with your prick leaking all over me.”

That was of arousal so strong he had to still his hand to keep from cumming on the spot. Chest heaving, he peered down and realized he’d been dripping precum all over Jon’s navel. He was equal part ashamed and jealously proud.

“Well, I guess if you like it so much,” Jon began, voice a bit shakier. “You can touch?”

They’d just discussed this. Jon hadn’t wanted him to touch. Martin was torn between accepting the permission and going for it or checking in again. He erred on the side of caution.

“You sure?” Jon nodded, not lifting his head. “Um, what words should I use?”

Jon waved a hand lazily. “Anything you like. I- I like that you like my body. I hadn’t realized how validating it would be to be sexualized by you like this.”

“I fucking love your body,” Martin blurted out before he could stop himself and had to give himself another squeeze to take the edge off. He was horny and fond all at once. “God, Jon, it’s- You’re incredible.”

“Thank you,” Jon said and call Martin crazy, but he sounded breathier than normal.

“You’re okay if I call them breasts?” Jon nodded. “Or tits?” Another nod. “O-Okay, then.”

“That’s how I know you’re a poet.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I give you permission to feel me up and you began wondering what words you can use to call my chest,” Jon rumbled a laugh that, embarrassingly, made Martin’s prick jump in his hands. That only made Jon laugh more as he reached out for Martin’s free hand and introduced it to his right breast. Martin didn’t waste any more time and cupped the swell of flesh reverently, thumbing at the nipple to see if it was as soft as the rest of Jon’s tit. Jon moaned.

_Jon moaned_.

That alone was enough to wreck Martin and distract him completely. His boyfriend’s voice was deep and lovely and, yes, he’d imagined working moans out of him before, but in person? It was exquisite. Probably the most beautiful sound Martin ever or would ever hear in his entire life. It was worthy of poetry, if only Martin’s brain could puzzle out words for it while all the blood in his body pooled in his face or cock.

He’d just hope that memory would do it justice. (Or that Jon would be amenable to a second attempt?)

Stroking Jon’s chest with one greedy hand and fisting his cock in his other, Martin couldn’t help moaning himself, brain still struggling to catch up with the fact that he was dripping precum on Jon, holding Jon’s tit, and about to cum.

Cum on-

“You can cum on me if you’d like.”

“Christ, Jon,” Martin panted. He didn’t know if Jon was reading his mind or what, but in the moment, he didn’t care at all. Unable to last, he began fucking his fist in earnest as he pinched Jon’s nipple for the first time. It forced an adorable cry from his mouth, something half squeak, half moan. Martin thumbed it apologetically, brain completely fried.

“Can I use my mouth?” Martin asked, words tumbling out of him as he raced towards his completion. “I know we didn’t talk about it, but-”

“Yes, yes,” Jon agreed impatiently. Things were happening fast, and while he expected to feel apart from the proceedings, he found himself getting swept up just as surely (but to a lesser degree) as Martin. Instead of continuing to reassure him, he reached up to tangle fingers in Martin’s short curls and physically guide him to his prize.

Martin wasted no time and licked a broad stripe over the nipple he’d so rudely abused and then matched it on Jon’s other tit. He blew on the wet flesh lightly to watch Jon squirm with a breathy, “Oh!” Then he decided that the cold wasn’t a good look on his breasts and started to kiss and tease them with hints of teeth to warm them up.

He was getting close. He wanted to last, but he was weak to Jon’s charms. Between the perfect pressure of his own hand, Jon’s hands alternating clutching his shoulders and playing with his hair, and the frankly sinful moans coming out of Jon, he was doomed from the start.

Desperate to give at least some of the stimulation back, Martin lightly bit down on Jon’s nipple.

“Oh! Martin!” Jon moaned, clutching him closer. “F- Fuck, I.”

Martin barely heard him over the rush of blood in his ears. Jon was clearly enjoying himself right along with Martin, who was buried in Jon’s chest, muffling his groaning with sweet, soft flesh. And he was going to _cum on Jonathan fucking Sims_.

It was that thought that did him in. He let his head fall to rest in the valley between Jon’s chest, groaning low and long. He couldn’t see where he streaked Jon’s darker flesh with his spend, but the knowledge of it being there was enough to make him wish he could get it up again.

He panted through the moments until he regained complete control of his facilities and struggled to not collapse on Jon for fear of breaking him. It was only after he regained his breath that he realized that Jon’s heart was still thundering in the chest beneath his head. The fear that he’d pushed too far and hurt Jon had him shoving himself back upright to kneel.

He caught sight of his cum pooling in Jon’s belly button and it hit him like a punch to the gut, but he forced his gaze up, over Jon’s flushed and bitten, heaving chest to look at his boyfriend.

“Are you alright?” he practically slurred. Jon’s eyes were wide, but didn’t look fearful. His pupils threatened to swallow the lovely brown of his irises. Jon nodded slowly, legs drawing up a bit, but stopped by Martin’s weight. “What do you need?”

“I-” Jon laughed a bit. “I think I underestimated how much it would affect me.”

Realization hit him like a lightning strike. Martin swallowed his apologies and moved his free hand back to Jon’s chest, stroking him lightly and watching his eyes fall shut. In a low voice, Martin asked, “Would you like help with that?”

Jon moaned again and then forced his eyes open.

“I don’t know what I want,” he said, gaze going unfocused. He gave up and slumped into the pillows to look sightlessly at the ceiling.”I don’t typically get turned on with partners.”

“Did you want me to leave?” Martin asked delicately. Jon shook his head immediately, unwilling to lose out on this intimacy, emotional and otherwise. “Did you… Do you want to touch yourself, Jon?”

“Fuck,” he hissed and then threw an arm over his face in embarrassment, even as he squirmed beneath Martin, clearly desperate for… something. Martin withdrew just long enough to grab a tissue from the nightstand to give his hands a cursory clean before planting them on Jon’s hips.

The first order of business, Martin wanted to make things perfectly clear.

“You can stop me if you want, but I’ll try and handle things from here,” he told Jon and then cupped the swell of Jon’s tits in both his hands, confident since this is likely where Jon’s arousal came from. “I really do like these, you know. They’re so soft. You’re a hard man at the best of times, but so soft here. I feel like I can get a read on you when I see these. I can see how soft you really are. You’re so sweet for me, Jon.”

Jon let out a cry as his hips jerked. His breaths began to taper off into reedy whimpers.

“That’s good,” he panted. Peeking out from under his arm, he self consciously said, “You can- You can touch me lower, if you want.”

Martin hated himself for finishing so early and wished he’d been in his right mind a little longer and had realized how worked up Jon was getting. Arousal was sitting hot and heavy in his gut, but there was nothing he could do to work himself up again quite so soon. Still, he slipped down Jon’s body before his consciousness stopped him.

“I’m going to take care of you,” Martin promised. “But you have to say if I do anything you don’t like. Can you do that?”

Jon sighed and pulled himself up a bit more so he could get a better look at Martin over the planes of his body. “No penetration.” His voice was hoarse enough to drive Martin mad.

“No penetration,” he agreed, stroking Jon’s thighs. “But it’s okay to, uh, rub you? And maybe use my mouth?”

Jon whined and his hips bucked again. He bit into his knuckle, clearing riding out a wave of breathless arousal before saying, “I might not finish from that, but it sounds good. Um. Call it a cock?”

Martin nodded and took Jon’s eagerly undulating hips as permission to begin. He massaged his way to the thick, coarse curls that framed Jon’s sex. He clearly wasn’t one for manscaping – Martin wasn’t either – and Martin liked the natural look. Not that there was anything wrong with trimming it all up, but something about the untamed curls seemed more… organic. Spur of the moment. Perfectly imperfect.

Even in the low light of the bedroom, Martin caught the sheen of wetness on the curls closer to Jon’s slit. He pet the skin just above Jon’s thatch of curls and then slowly, firmly slid his fingers down and through them, tugging gently to hear Jon’s voice rise again in moans and breathy pleas for more.

Jon’s cock was peeking out by now, a point of pink in the black hair. Martin felt hot all over as he gently pried apart Jon’s lips to free it even further. It stood proudly, flushed and pink and utterly gorgeous.

What Jon didn’t know when he gave Martin permission to touch was that, nice as he was, he was kind of an asshole. Instead of giving Jon the pressure he was so desperately hoping for, he pressed and massaged the skin on either side of his cock without directly stimulating it. The teasing sent Jon restlessly shifting and whining.

“Martin,” he panted.

“Yes, love?” Martin answered sweetly. When Jon didn’t answer, he looked away from the sight before him to catch Jon’s eye. He was still obviously aroused, but there was something insecure in his eyes and the tight way he held himself. “Sorry. I’m just admiring the view. You’re bloody gorgeous and I don’t want to rush things.”

Jon bit his lip while Martin continued his gentle teasing until Jon caved in. His voice was breathy with want as he explained, “I didn’t expect to get into it like this. I thought I was doing this for you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, pressing harder, but still not where Jon needed him. Jon cried out his name as his hips jerked helplessly, grinding on nothing.

“I touch myself,” he confessed. “I know the mechanics and I’ve tried to have sex with other people, but I can’t turn my brain off like other people can. I can’t get in the moment and nothing they did could make me orgasm.”

“For other people, it’s kind of automatic,” Martin admitted. “And thank you for sharing, but what does that mean for us right now?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish,” Jon repeated regretfully. “It’s nothing on you – this is actually the most affected I’ve been by a partner – but I can’t stop myself from overthinking.”

“Okay,” Martin said thoughtfully. “I mean, as long as you still like when I touch you then I’ll keep doing it. You like it when I touch you, right?”

He punctuated his question by palming Jon’s sex, the first direct pressure he got to his dick. Jon threw his head back, only narrowly missing slamming his head into the headboard. “God, yes. Fuck.”

“Then I’ll help you to the edge,” Martin murmured, leaning up to press kisses against Jon’s neck and collar. He nipped Jon’s chest on his way back up. “If that’s okay?”

“F- Yes,” Jon agreed almost recklessly, voice turning to a whimper halfway through. He was vocal, so vocal that Martin was sure he was going slowly insane. He’d never pictured this side of Jon, but found that be absolutely adored it. He parted Jon’s lips and gifted him with a firm stroke in reward, which in turn almost made him shout.

Jon’s tits also bounced when he stroked his cock with a firm thumb. He wanted to kiss them again, bite them and lick his way from peak to sinful peak.

But he also really wanted to suck Jon’s dick.

Regretfully, he gave up watching Jon’s tits shake in favor of moving further down the bed. Jon was enjoying his hand so far, rutting against it rhythmlessly, so he dropped a kiss just above Jon’s cock, He let Jon ride his hand for a bit before drawing it back, making Jon almost cry with frustration.

“I’ve got you,” Martin cooed, rubbing the skin where Jon’s hips jutted out. He was practically vibrating with tension beneath him. “Hush, I just want to use my mouth now.”

Without another word, Martin hefted Jon’s legs over his shoulders easily, bringing his cock close enough to finally taste. Jon was whimpering and staring, so Martin stared right back as he breathed in the scent of Jon’s arousal and _finally_ gave Jon’s cock one long, firm lick.

Somewhere behind his left ear, Jon’s leg spasmed and Martin found himself grateful he’d inadvertently placed himself out of range of accidental kicks.

Jon’s hips were giving tiny, stuttering thrusts below Martin’s mouth, pressing back against his tongue desperately. Martin licked him deep, avoiding going too far down to steer on the edge of caution. Jon didn’t want penetration and Martin was happy enough to suck him instead.

After what Jon was certain was a lifetime of teasing, Martin sealed his lips over his cock and sucked once, hard. Jon nearly screamed again and fisted Martin’s curls with both hands. He eased up immediately and began a steady rhythm of gentle suckling while he rubbed his hands over whatever part of Jon wasn’t in his mouth currently.

He could feel how tightly wound Jon was beneath his tongue and part of him thought of pulling off to ask if Jon needed to finish himself now, but was stopped by the thought that maybe he could finish Jon off. He wanted to try at least. If anyone could get Jon to cum, Martin desperately wanted it to be him.

So when he drew back, he only asked, “Good?”

“F-fuck,” Jon stuttered. “Y-yes. I’m- mm. I’m close, I think?”

Martin pressed his hand against Jon’s cock to watch him squirm and moan, almost disoriented with his own pleasure. He found himself asking, “Why don’t you play with your tits? They look lonely.”

“You could do it yourself.”

“I’m a bit busy,” Martin said and then dived back down to give his cock another long lick. Jon’s hands tightened in his hair before falling away entirely and when he peeked up, Martin saw them both reached to cup his breasts, pressing them close together as if offering them up.

It was in that moment that Martin realized he was hard again and leaking into the sheets. For a moment he entertained the thought of revealing that little fact to Jon and trying to include himself again, but dismissed it.

Jon was close and Martin wanted to drive him off that cliff. His own pleasure came secondary. He redoubled his efforts, but though he wound tighter and tighter, he didn’t seem any closer.

Martin regretfully pulled back and replaced his lips with his hand, pressing down hard and punching out a loud noise from Jon. “Did you want to-”

Jon cut him off when his cry turned to a moan and one of his hands flew down to cover Martin’s over his sex as he rutted against it. Martin let him press harder and harder, hips jumping and body trembling before abruptly deflating. He sagged back and his head thumped back into his pillow, panting hard. Though he still held Martin’s hand against his cock, he flinched when Martin tried to press down.

“Did you just cum?” He sounded a lot more composed than he felt with his cock throbbing hot and heavy between his legs. The idea that he’d given Jon his first orgasm through partner stimulation was wrecking him. When he didn’t answer, he prompted, “Jon?”

“I don’t know,” he said finally, voice small and faint. He released Martin’s hand, but then reached back down to cover his sensitive cock, cupping it almost shamefully. Martin watched Jon over the heaving of his chest as he grabbed another tissue to clean Jon’s slick from his hand (and face).

“I think you did,” Martin said carefully. He climbed off of Jon and almost ended up crushing him when his legs failed him from being locked in the same position for… however long they’d been at it. He settled beside Jon and urged him closer. “I know we didn’t talk about that possibility. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t expect it,” Jon confessed, hiding his head under Martin’s chin. Martin pulled him as close as possible while angling himself so that Jon didn’t feel his erection. “It- It was good. But it was a lot? I don’t know if I quite enjoyed it.”

“That’s okay,” Martin reassured him, rubbing his naked, sweaty back up to his shoulders and back down. “I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy it. Did you- Did you want to stop at any point?”

“No, Martin.” Jon, little shit that he was, rolled his eyes at his concern. “No, you were a perfect gentleman and I liked- loved the sensations. It just took me by surprise, I suppose. I’ve, uh, not been able to let go like that with other partners. But I also haven’t felt as, er, worked up with another partner either.”

“Am I just that special?” Martin teased, ego wanting Jon to confirm it.

“I think it’s because you’re a gay man,” Jon mused. “You’ve never been attracted to a woman, but you… were to me.”

“God, of course I am,” he sighed. “You’re fucking magnificent.”

Jon tittered a little nervous laugh into his shoulder and then squirmed out of Martin’s embrace, though he didn’t go very far. “Sorry. It’s just… sweaty. Gross.”

Martin, ever the gentleman that Jon called him, politely refrained from pointing out his dried cum splashed over Jon’s navel. _His cum_ on Jon’s body. He bit his lip.

“Are you okay?” Jon was asking when Martin regained control of his racing thoughts.

“Yeah, of course.”

Jon eyed Martin and then, very pointedly, dragged his gaze along Martin’s body to settle on his still hard and aching prick. Martin groaned and covered his eyes. “You were hot like that! Sue me for getting hard over my ridiculously hot boyfriend!”

“I forgive you,” he said sympathetically. Jon’s eyes darted from his face to his erection. “Do you… still need help?”

“I think I’ve put you through enough, love,” Martin said gently, reaching to take Jon’s hand in his and kiss it. “Why don’t you take the first shower instead?”

“You’re sure?”

“I can take care of myself.” Though Jon still looked uncertain, he acquiesced. Grabbing a sweater from the floor – Martin’s – to shrug on, he scurried from the room without another word. Alone, Martin let himself stretch out on the bed fully. He took himself in hand and let thoughts of Jon flood his mind now that he had a plethora of wank material to choose from. He’d focus on them and flesh out specific fantasies later, too consumed with getting off quickly rather than with any kind of finesse.

Mindlessly, he tugged himself off, working himself up until his mind conjured up an image of what might have happened if, instead of cumming so early, he lasted long enough to work Jon up. He pictured the slide of their cocks together, how the sensation would send him over the edge and how he’d paint Jon’s folds with his cum. The mental picture of the sticky white sheen on Jon’s dick and lips was enough to send him over the edge with a muffled groan.

He gave himself a moment to bask in the afterglow, breathing deeply until he felt settled enough to sit up and begin the clean up. He wiped his hands on the sheet, knowing Jon would have yelled at him for that if he’d been present. But he was still in the shower, so Martin was free to revel in his slovenly ways.

The soiled sheets came off, dumped by the door and destined to the wash tomorrow morning. Jon padded back into the room in a fresh pair of sweats when Martin was finishing up putting fresh sheets out.

“I would have done that,” Jon objected, but looking at him Martin could tell he was exhausted.

“Like I said before,” he said cheerfully, dropping a kiss on Jon’s forehead. “I’ve put you through enough. You lay down. I’ll be just a mo’.”

As Martin gathered fresh clothes, Jon sighed as if a man under a terrible burden. He crawled into bed all alone and fixed his boyfriend with a look. “You’ll be quick?”

“Quick as I can be,” Martin promised, grinning at Jon’s pout. He left the room and took his turn in the shower. Just as promised, he simply scrubbed himself off quickly without even taking time to wash his hair. He’d showered this morning after Jon left; this was just a cursory wash.

When he stepped out of the shower and over to the toilet, a thought hit him. He rushed through the rest of his nightly routine before hurrying back to their bedroom.

“Did you pee?” Martin asked, pausing in the doorway. Jon blinked up from his phone in surprise. “Uh.” Martin began to blush all over again. “You’re supposed to, you know, after sex.”

“Because of infection,” Jon said. “Yes, Martin, I’m aware of the basic mechanics.”

“Oh! Good.”

“If that’s all,” he hinted and impatiently lifted the blanket. Martin took the cue and scrambled over to slip in beside his boyfriend, not at all self conscious over closing the distance to wrap his arms around him tightly. Jon made a pleased sound and extracted himself only long enough to turn off the bedside lamp before surrendering himself to being cuddled within an inch of his life.

“I’m glad you were asking because of my health,” he piped up after a moment. “I’m not at all sure what I would have done if you were revealing a piss kink.”

“ _Jon._ ”

* * *

“I’ve been thinking about last night,” Jon began conversationally over the Styrofoam containers on the cramped kitchen table between the two of them. Martin hummed in encouragement, setting down the chopsticks he’d been struggling with and swiping a wonton with his fingers instead. Jon shook his head despairingly.

“What about it?” Martin asked after he was finished chewing and he was sure Jon wasn’t going to continue unprompted.

“I think I’ve decided that I liked it,” he announced. “I didn’t expect to be so affected, but I’ve been thinking about what exactly did it for me.”

“I thought it was the whole me being gay thing,” Martin picked up his chopsticks again for another go at the lo mein.

“It was, in part,” Jon agreed. “But in the past I was expected to be an active participant. But last night the only thing I had to do was lie there. I feel almost bad for making you do all the work.”

“My pillow prince,” he cooed to watch Jon blush, breaking off with a grumble. “I liked just watching you. Adoring you. And if being adored is what it takes to get you in the mood, I’m delighted to help.”

“Of course you are,” Jon pouted in mock-disgust. “Anyway, what I’m saying is that what happened last night isn’t… off the table, so to speak. I know my reaction in the moment was off putting, but I hope that now that I know what I’m getting into it will be different.”

“Jon, the only reason it was off putting was because I was worried I hurt you. We didn’t talk about be touching you before we both got caught up in the moment and I thought I pushed you too far.”

“You didn’t,” he confirmed and then frowned. “But- ah. There is something I want to talk about.”

“Okay.”

“I’m fine with you touching me if it isn’t a particularly bad dysphoria day,” Jon explained. “But when I said no penetration, I did mean that quite firmly. I’ve tried it before and it’s only ever felt uncomfortable if not painful.”

Martin’s concerned look prompted him to reassure, “Sometimes I went at it with less preparation than I needed, but it was entirely my own fault for rushing when I knew I wasn’t ready.”

“I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Martin said, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I really just wanted to wank to you, not that last night wasn’t absolutely amazing. If it happens again, great. Otherwise, I’ll still be perfectly fine.”

“I want last night to happen again, though,” Jon said.

“But no penetration,” Martin said.

“No penetration,” Jon echoed. “It’s never made me feel good. If anything, it just feels invasive. It- I don’t feel good when I’ve tried it. I know I also said that I’d never gotten off from a partner either, but I was willing to try that.”

“I’m not going to push you, Jon.”

“I know. I appreciate it. I just… I wanted to explain that it was a hard limit,” he said. He squirmed in discomfort. “It’s only ever made me feel violated.”

“That’s not what I want. That’s _never_ what I want,” Martin argued vehemently. Jon nodded along absently.

“I tried to explain it to Georgie and she respected it,” he recounted. “I had a brief boyfriend after her and, well, I thought I could handle it. And I suppose I could because I did force myself through it, but in the end I only felt like shit. I didn’t tell him my feelings on the subject, but we broke up shortly after.”

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to put yourself through that.”

“It’s fine,” he waved off Martin’s concern. He didn’t know what to do with it even though his stomach was twisting in knots. “Would you mind if I put on my binder?”

“Of course not. You know I only ask you to take it off when you try to wear it to bed and that’s because I know the kind of pain you get when you do that.”

Jon nodded and fled the kitchen, reappearing in the same jumper, but with a flatter chest. They resumed eating and despite feeling uncomfortable and exposed, Jon was secure in his safety with Martin here. Martin, who cared so much and was willing to work around so many things. Martin, who didn’t even comment when Jon began to cry and only slid his chair closer to hold him tight.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Martin asks if he can masturbate to Jon and Jon takes that to mean he would like him to be present while Martin masturbates.  
> 2\. They discuss over text.  
> 3\. They take the plunge that night and Martin starts off only with permission to look.  
> 4\. Jon gives him permission to touch his chest.  
> 5\. Martin cums.  
> 6\. Jon is worked up and gives Martin permission to touch his dick. No penetration.  
> 7\. Martin touches Jon's dick and blows him.  
> 8\. Jon is a little unsettled at how much he got caught up in the moment and goes for a shower while Martin rubs another one out.  
> 9\. They both go to bed and discuss more about the whole thing the next day.
> 
> Past dubious consent: Jon forced himself to let his partner penetrate him without explaining his negative feelings on the issue. Partner isn't described as pushy, but Jon felt like it was something he should try and endure.


End file.
